


If You Can

by Thea_Luthor



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-08 09:42:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15240624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thea_Luthor/pseuds/Thea_Luthor
Summary: This is a story I wrote a long, long time ago about what COULD have happened in Book 7.  It is AU now.





	1. Keep Your Head

The summer heat beat down on the house in Tunbridge Wells (Kent).  Hermione Granger pushed her annoying hair off her face as she put the last of the things she thought she would need in a knapsack.  What exactly a seventeen year old girl needs when she heads off with her two best friends to battle the forces of evil, she wasn’t sure, but she figured that she had covered the basics.  Wand, a few change of knickers, toothbrush, dental floss, some books, moisturizer, and sunscreen.  _ That should do it _ , she thought and looked in the mirror.

“Mum, Dad, I have some…news,” she said to her reflection, rehearsing what she would say to them, how she would tell them that she wasn’t going back to school.  She hated leaving before graduation, but if Harry and Ron were hell bent on chasing after Voldemort, she had better go with them to make sure they didn’t do anything foolish that would get themselves killed.   _ There was enough of a chance of that happening without being foolish. _

Her frown at that thought was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell.  She quickly walked down the stairs, wondering who would be calling when her parents were out.  None of her friends could be at her house. She opened the door and nearly slammed it shut again in surprise.

There, standing on her doorstep, was Percy Weasley.

“Percy!” she said excitedly, “come in, come in.  What are you doing here?” She took his arm and practically dragged him inside.  He refused to be dragged.

“Hermione,” he stopped her, disengaging their arms, “this isn’t a social call.”  She immediately stepped back from him and felt for her wand.

“What are you doing here, then?” she hated the fact that her voice betrayed how afraid she was now.

“I am here on official ministry business.  May my associates and I come inside?” he gestured towards the two goons that flanked his shoulders.

“Sure,” she replied, moving out of the way.  She led them into the kitchen and sat at the table.  Percy sat across from her, while the two “officials” stood against the wall.  He placed a small black box in the center of table between them.

The decision for Percy Weasley to be assigned this particular task was not made by the man in question.  Like so many other things in life, it was handed down from on high. Scrimgeour and his flunkies at the Ministry were not stupid.  They realized that Harry, and his accomplices, would decide to go after Voldemort alone. They simply didn’t know how, when, and exactly who would be going.  When Granger failed to reply to an assignment from Professor McGonagall, the gig was basically up.

Percy had been chosen because he had the closest relationship to those involved, namely Harry, Hermione, and his brother, Ron.  Always looking to forward his place within the Ministry, young Weasley was more than happy to “volunteer” to be the government’s emissary.  He understood that playing nice with the boys in charge couldn’t hurt, regardless of how short their time in power.

While he did have many self-promoting reasons for accepting this task, he wasn’t being completely selfish.  If Scrimgeour was right, then his brother and Hermione, whom he had always been fond of, despite everything, would be walking into danger without any defense.  If Harry wanted to sacrifice himself, that was fine as far as Percy was concerned, but Ron and the girl were a different story.

It had been a long two years since he had turned his back on his family.  While he always put on a brave and haughty front, Percy secretly missed his parents and siblings desperately.  Breaking away from such a close family was like hacking his arm off, and some days the pain was excruciating. The assignment he had been given was a win-win for him.  He would look good to his bosses AND to his parents and older brothers, who would be quite pleased that he had single-handedly prevented Ron from overtly placing himself in harm’s way, at least for the time being.  What the kid did after graduation was his own affair. His hope was that preventing Ron and the others from running off would put him back in at least some of the other Weasleys’ good graces.

“Can you state your name please?”  He asked. Hermione realized that the device was some type of recorder.

“What is this about?” she countered.

“Just please state your name.”

“Hermione Jean Granger”

“Are you a student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?”

“At present, I am on vacation.”

“A yes or no will suffice.”  Hermione swallowed. What if they had a lie detector?

“I don’t know.”  She answered as honestly as she could.  Percy took a breath.

“Did you receive a commendation letter from Headmistress McGonagall inviting you to be Head Girl?”  Tears pricked Hermione’s eyes when the word “headmistress” was attached to McGonagall’s name. She blinked them away.

“Yes.”

“Did you answer it?”

“No.” she said lamely.  Percy visibly softened. He leaned closer to her.

“Hermione, you intended to drop out of school, didn’t you?”  He gave her a sympathetic smile that made him look so much like Ron it made her heart ache.

“Not really ‘drop out,’” she evaded, “more like a ‘sabbatical.’”  He sighed.

“I understand that you are very upset about Dum…the events at the end of last term.  But it is in everyone’s best interest for you to go back to school.” She hesitated, a rebuttal on her lips that would give Ron and Harry away.  “I know what Harry’s planning. That’s why I’m here.” He became official again, silently praying that it would distract her enough to keep her from calling his bluff.

“Miss Granger, by order of the Ministry of Magic, you are required to attend Hogwarts for your final year.  You are to remain at this residence unless Ministry officials, and ONLY Ministry officials arrive to escort you to your intended destination.”  He leaned forward again. “You are so important to the Ministry, Hermione, more than you realize. We just want to keep you safe.”

“What about Ron and Harry?” she retorted sharply.

“We’ll take care of them too.  To be honest, we need you three alive and in one piece.”

“Do you really think that you are going to stop the two of them from doing whatever it is that they have their hearts set on?” she gave Percy a pitying look.

“You leave that to me.  In the meantime, get ready for your last year of school.  Being Head Girl is a great honor, you know, and a lot of fun.”  He smiled at her when she made a face.

“What about Voldemort?”  Finally, the two goons shifted nervously.

“We have a plan for that, don’t you worry.  In the meantime, we’ll be watching the house, just in case.”  He pushed away from the table and started to leave.

“You should write your mother, Percy,” she said as he was nearly out the door to the kitchen.  He sighed. “She misses you.”

He looked at her over his shoulder.  “Where do you think I’m going right now?”

TLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTL

The Burrow looked just as he remembered it, approaching from the road.  The little path that led to a small wrought iron gate. The foliage that his mother had such a gift with, growing nearly as fast and as abundantly as her children.  He had asked his associates to wait in the village. With so much history, he wanted to do this alone. He stood at the gate and took a deep breath, not quite ready to go in just yet.

It amazed him that no one was around.  All the children were grown up now, so there was no impromptu quidditch game going on in the back yard or shrieks from the recipient of one of the twins’ antics.  The person he most needed to see was there though, that’s all that was important.

He saw his quandary emerge from the kitchen door, taking some rubbish out to the heap.  Had he really gotten so tall? Where had those shoulders come from? Percy swallowed nervously.  His baby brother at present probably outweighed him by at least a stone and a half. If he decided to be difficult, which was inevitable, things could get very ugly, fast.

“Ron,” he called, opening the gate and stepping within the bounds of the house.  Ron froze, and Percy realized that he was trying to place the voice. He hadn’t been away for that long, for Merlin’s sake!  Ron turned around. When he saw his brother, Ron looked as though the wind had been knocked out of him.

“So it is you,” was his greeting, “what do you want here?”

“We have to have a talk, Ron.”

“Oh, really?  Is this going be another lovely little chat where you tell me to turn my back on my family, my friends, and everyone I love?”  Percy felt his temper get kindled, but refused to take the bait. He gave a tired sigh.

“Did you tell them that you were running off yet?” he asked, trying to throw the younger Weasley off guard. 

“How did you know about that?”

“Hermione told me.”  Now Ron looked ready to choke the life from him.  Percy had forgotten. Dropping her name had been the wrong tactic.

“What have you done to her?” Ron took a menacing step forward.

“Nothing, nothing!  You can owl her yourself in ten minutes time.  I just have to talk to you. I’m giving you some added responsibility, so to speak.  Can we go inside?”

“Fine, but hurry it up.  I don’t want to be late for work.”

After seven minutes, Ron was feeling less angry and more worried and scared.  How had they figured it out? Had someone heard the trio at the funeral? Had Harry told someone?   _ Oh, wait, Percy was talking again… _

“I am leaving him in your charge.  Harry will listen to you, Ron. All you have to do is keep him at school and out of trouble.  He will have plenty of time to battle…’He-Who-Will-Not-Be-Named.’ Trust me.”

“So you want me to keep Harry Potter, the kid that has been told he is the savior of all and sundry, at Hogwarts, where he saw Dumbledore murdered, for ten whole months?  You’re mad!”

“He doesn’t have a choice, Ron.  And neither do you.”

“Well, that’s nothing special; I’ve never had much of a choice about anything,” Ron huffed.

“We’ll be bringing Harry here in two days.  You are to keep him out of trouble for the rest of the summer as well.  But I can’t imagine he would want to hurt Mum and Dad, so he will most likely behave.”

“What about Hermione?”

“What about her?”

“When is she due to arrive?”

“She won’t be.”

“ _ What _ ?” this was asked with savage calm.

“There is no reason for her to be here.  She will be perfectly safe at her home in Kent.  Besides, it would be better if you two didn’t get your hands on her.  You’re a bad influence.” Percy thought that sounded perfectly reasonable.

Ron, however, did not.

“No, no.  That’s unacceptable.”  He sat back from the table and crossed his arms over his chest, adopting a most stubborn pose.

“I’m sorry, but you are hardly in the position to make demands.”

“Aren’t I?  You come in here and give me all these extra little jobs and then you tell me that you are going to keep one of my best friends away for the whole summer ‘for her own good?’  What about Bill and Fleur’s wedding?”

“I didn’t think that she would be invited.”

“She’s  **MY** guest.”

“Oh, I see.”  He hadn’t realized that they had progressed that far.   _ Hmm _ .  “Fine, we will bring her for the wedding.”

“And then she can stay for the rest of the summer.  It’s only two weeks after that until term starts anyway.”

“Ron…”

“That’s the deal, Percy.  Take it, or leave it.” Percy sighed and held out his hand.  Ron took it and smiled smugly, savoring his victory.

 


	2. Blaming It On You

Hermione was quiet throughout the train ride.  At first, Percy had tried to make light conversation: telling amusing stories, talking about the weather, that sort of thing.  But the closer they got to the school, the more withdrawn she became. She spent the last half hour silently staring out the window with a grim look on her face that was much too old for her sixteen years.

Percy didn’t press her.  He had assumed that this would be a difficult trip for her; that’s why he had volunteered to take her himself, and take the slow route.  None of the other Ministry operatives would have understood. They hadn’t known her since she was eleven. They hadn’t been as close to Dumbledore.  They weren’t practically family.

When they disembarked, Hermione wrapped her arms around her stomach.  It was hot, but overcast, seeming to match her mood. They finally reached the gates to Hogwarts.  The castle looked so solemn, so silent. Hermione realized she had never seen it thus. Perhaps the death of headmaster had put the very building into mourning.

“Shall I go with you?” Percy asked.  Hermione shook her head, gathering her courage.

“No, that’s all right,” she turned her head to look at him, “it’s just school.  I’ll be fine.”

“Alright.  I’ll be waiting for you in Hogsmeade.  Just page me when you are ready.” He turned to leave and she caught his wrist.

“Thank you, Percy.  I’m glad you were my chaperone today.”  They exchanged weak smiles.

“Well, see you later.”  He continued on his way back down the hill.  Hermione gripped the gate with both hands, took a deep breath, and gently pushed it open.

She felt as though she were sleepwalking.  Her feet plodded their course to the headmaster’s office with no instruction from her brain.  Her mind, meanwhile, took in everything around her. The place barely looked as though it had changed.  No one who didn’t know better would realize that a battle had taken place here just three weeks before. She climbed the magic stairwell after giving the gargoyle guarding the door the password.  Even though she had been preparing herself for it, it was still a shock to see Professor McGonagall sitting in what had just recently been Dumbledore’s chair. Her favorite professor looked up when she heard her enter.  She smiled sadly.

“Ah, Miss Granger,” McGonagall said while rising from her seat, “here you are.  Now let’s get down to business.” Hermione was surprised. She knew that she was here for a meeting because she had been chosen as Head Girl.  She had not been told who her male counterpart would be; she had assumed it would be Harry. But since he had not mentioned it in any of his letters, neither had she.  The young woman still held out hope that he had not said anything to surprise her. She walked forward, feeling a genuine smile spread on her face as she approached the matching chairs set before the desk.  Obviously, he (whoever HE was) had already arrived.

Expecting to see one of her most beloved friends, she thought that someone had thrust a knife into her stomach when who should she see in the chair but Draco Malfoy.

She took two steps back and pulled her wand out.

“What are you doing here?” she asked forcefully, her eyes scanning the room for any place a Death Eater could be hiding.  How could she have been so stupid?!  _ To have walked right into the trap! _

“Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy is here because he is Head Boy.  I would like you to sit down, please.” McGonagall stood still, hands folded in front of her.

“This has to be a mistake.  Either this is a trap, or a nightmare, or a really enormous mistake!”

“Oh, you aren’t sleeping, darling.  I can assure you of that,” drawled Draco from his chair.

“I would be  _ very _ quiet if I were you,” Hermione warned him.

“You should heed her advice, Mr. Malfoy,” McGonagall came around the desk and put a hand on Hermione’s shoulder, “Hermione, please, sit down and I will explain everything.”

“But, Professor, he…he CAN’T be Head Boy!  It just isn’t possible.”

“It was Dumbledore’s choice.”  That knocked the wind out of her.  She sat, defeated, in the chair, until her brain came to another conclusion.

“But, surely, that was before….in light of what’s happened, surely, this must be changed.”

“Hermione, Dumbledore made his decisions before the end of last term, yes.  But he reiterated them this morning.” McGonagall’s eyes looked up to where the portrait of Albus Dumbledore hung on the wall.  He looked down at Hermione and smiled that knowing smile of his. It was almost too much to take, and Hermione looked away quickly.  She sat back in her chair and tried to blink away tears. However, always curious, she pushed her head forward a little bit and slid a look at Draco.  She was amazed at what she saw.

Her nemesis sat quietly, with his head down.  His shoulders sagged and he actually looked sad.  She couldn’t believe it. She had never seen Draco Malfoy look anything but arrogant.  Okay, maybe scared on two or three occasions, but she assumed that that was the extent of his emotional range.  She couldn’t help herself and openly turned her whole face to stare at him.

He looked different physically, too.  He was thinner, his hair was cut much shorter, and his skin didn’t look as creamy as it once had.  He wasn’t radiating beauty like he normally did. And tired. He looked exhausted. He finally turned to meet her eyes.

“Have you finished staring at me?” he asked, with none of the spirit that he normally had.

“What’s happened to you?” she replied, shocked.

“All of that will be answered in a few moments,” McGonagall interrupted, “We need to get down to business.  You have both been chosen to be Head of the school due to your academic and social prominence. This is a great responsibility.  You are to be the professors’ aides in whatever capacity they need you. However, with great responsibility comes great reward. The two of you will share a dorm suite that is equipped with a common area and a bedroom and bathroom for each of you.  It is separate from the other dorms. Miss Granger, due to your Muggle background, we have provided charmed electrical power so that you may bring whatever things you need from home. Mr. Malfoy, we have outfitted your room in the style to which you are accustomed.  If either of you wish to make changes to the rooms, simply speak with me and we will come to a conclusion together.

“We are meeting here today because I would like to discuss the added security measures that the other professors and I have taken to provide for the safety of the students.  If anything should happen…” McGonagall had to stop there, but caught herself and hurried on, “if anything should happen, and the teachers are not able to properly care for the students, you two are to be the next line of defense.  In that vein, you will be taking special classes from me…”

McGonagall continued on for several more minutes, outlining her plan to protect the school.

After that she took them up to their new dorms.  The rooms were spacious and bright. The common area and each of the bedrooms had a fireplace.  There were also walk-in closets and some storage space, as well as the typical furniture. Before the hearth in the common area was a lovely old, well-used couch.  Hermione already knew where she wanted to put her stereo and Playstation.

After the grand tour of their new “digs,” the two teenagers dutifully followed McGonagall back to what was now her office.

“Well, that’s about all I have to say to you,” she was wrapping up, “unless you two have some questions?”

“Actually, Professor, I do have a question,” Hermione slowly replied, “why us?  Why would Dumbledore choose the two of  _ us _ ,” she pointed at herself and Draco, “to be Heads?  It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Doesn’t it?” asked McGonagall, looking hard at Hermione, “Miss Granger, you are both top of your class, academically.  And you, specifically, are a member of the most popular clique at Hogwarts. You have a great deal of influence in that role.  And you are the only member of that group who would be able to handle all these added responsibilities right now. Mr. Malfoy also exudes a great deal of influence over his peers and the younger students.  Added to that is the fact that we are at war. Families and communities will be divided. But if the _two of_ _you_ can figure out a way of working together productively it will demonstrate to the students and the world at large that all is not lost.”

“So, after everything that has happened, I am just supposed to put it behind me and trust him?  No offense,” this last was said dripping with sarcasm as Hermione sneered at Draco.

“None taken,” he quietly replied, not rising to her barbs.

“No, you aren’t supposed to automatically trust him.  He is supposed to gain your trust.” McGonagall shot Draco a pointed look.  He slouched lower in his seat. “If we are through here, I will thank you very much for coming and I look forward to seeing you again in another few weeks.”  She rose and her two students followed. As Hermione walked toward the door, she found Draco falling into step beside her. She didn’t say anything to him at all; didn’t even look at him.  When she reached the main entrance to the school, he cleared his throat. She turned, one hand still on the door handle. He pushed his hand through his hair and continued it down the back of his head to rub his neck. 

“Would you like to get some lunch?”  Hermione turned and looked behind her.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Are you speaking to me?” she asked.

“Who else is here?” he replied edgily.

“I don’t know, that’s why I turned around,” Hermione took a deep breath to try to stifle some of her anger, “why are you asking me if I want some lunch?”

“I’m sure that on a better day I would be able to bicker with you, but I just don’t have it in me right now.  I can tell by the look on your face that you are riddled with questions. I figured you wouldn’t dare pass up an opportunity to find out what’s going on.  Besides,” he finished, turning away from her, “I have some explaining to do.” He walked out the door. Flabbergasted, she hurried along to follow him.

TLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTL

The sun had finally come out, and the day appeared quite cheerful as the two sat at a table at a sidewalk café in Hogsmeade.  Hermione dug into her salad and listened while Draco’s chicken sandwich lay mostly uneaten on his plate. In his defense, though, he hadn’t had much time to eat with all the talking.

“So why didn’t you do it?” she asked him.

“Are you kidding?  This  _ is _ Dumbledore we’re talking about here…I thought I could.  I kept telling myself that I could do it. That I would prove to everybody that I was worthy.  But I was wrong. There was all this noise all around me. I had my wand out. He was weak and on the ground.  But I just couldn’t do it. This was Dumbledore. He was my Head Master. He was one of the few people I had ever met who didn’t worship me just because I was a Malfoy.  I respected him.”

“So Snape…”

“My mother and aunt had forced him to make an ‘unbreakable vow’ that he would do it if I showed weakness.”

“So what have you been doing since then?  I’m really very surprised to see you at school.  I figured you would be hiding out in the south of France or something by now.”  Hermione forked another bite of lettuce into her mouth.

“Not likely.  I have basically been ousted from the family.  My father decreed from Azkaban that I was dead to him and the rest of the family pretty much followed suite.  I had been trying desperately to stay away from any Death Eaters I could think of. They would immediately hand me over to Voldemort.  So there I was: homeless, alone, and with no money. That’s when the Ministry picked me up.”

“Oh?” said Hermione through a mouth full of salad.

“Yes, I was charged with destruction of private property, public endangerment, disorderly conduct, terrorism, and accessory to murder.”

“You’re kidding!”  He made a face at her.

“Thankfully, I am still considered a minor, so I was only sent to the juvenile hall.  Otherwise, I would be sharing a cellblock with my ‘not’ father. It’s not really that much better.  You still have to be pretty fast on your feet, or …well…I’m sure you’ve heard of what happens in prisons, so I won’t go into details.  Suffice it to say that once all my new schoolmates saw how pretty I am, life got a lot tougher.”

“Wow.  At least you are starting to sound a little like your old self.”

“Granger, you surprise me.  I had no idea that you had fallen victim to my charms, too.”

“Oh don’t flatter yourself,” she replied, disgusted, “I just have a good deal of experience dealing with ‘wanker Draco,’ I don’t really know what to do with ‘morose and repentant Draco.’”

“’Morose and repentant.’  Swell.”

“So they are letting you go back to Hogwarts?”

“Yes, and I have to behave myself to the letter or I get cast back down with the ingrates.”

“So this is where you gaining my trust comes into play.”

“Yes, and I hate it.  I’ve never trusted anyone.  I don’t really know what to do.”

“How very pitiful your life sounds.”

“Thanks,” he replied dryly.

“Since I am supposed to be meeting my chaperone in about 10 minutes and I still want to get some treats for the boys, I will leave you now with a bit of advice.  Whatever your instinct tells you to do, do the opposite.” She stood to leave. He stood as well.

“So I guess this is goodbye, for now.”

“For now, yes,” she replied.  He held out his hand.

“What are you doing?”

“Well, you told me to not follow my instinct,” he answered.

“And that told you to what?  Punch me in the face?” she eyed him warily.

“Not exactly.”  She gripped his hand and shook it once.  Then turned and left.  _ This was going to be a VERY interesting year. _

  
  



End file.
